Tumbling Headlong into His Life
by Mattr13
Summary: It started with a bench, continued with a tumble and fall of epic proportions, and ended in a fake relationship that he should have never ever agreed to. Stiles has totally and royally screwed himself over. But he couldn't possibly have said no, and now he had to figure out how to deal with the hard consequences. The very, uncomfortably -hard- consequences.
1. Everyday I'm Tumb-ling

Chapter 1: Everyday I'm Tum-bling

**A/N: Hi guys! This is my first fic, yay. AU in high school with no hale fire. Derek is a year older than Stiles in this. Please read and review and give me feedback good or bad so I can grow as a new writer (plus reviews make my day).**

There he was on his trusty steed ready for combat, though some might more aptly call it bench-warming. In his defense, he was only a sophomore and it was an important task protecting his innocent fellow teammates' butts from getting cold and who better than pro butt-warmer extraordinaire Stiles Stilinski? Stiles briefly continued that train of thought on the possible ramifications of Cold Butt Syndrome (or CBS, like the news station) and the potential deterioration of lacrosse-playing skills it could bring when he heard a loud smack followed by a softer but decidedly more ominous crack.

A teammate of Stiles had been unceremoniously flipped over by a rival player and landed incredibly awkwardly on his shoulder. Stiles winced with much empathy not being a fan himself of flips of the crunching bone and the dislocation of limbs variety. Poor, poor Greenburg. It was moments like these that he was grateful to be a second-string player, safe on his professionally self-warmed bench where the hulking mass of enemy could not hurt him. Moments never lasted for Stiles.

"Stilinski, get your ass out there right now!" bellowed coach Finstock, obviously flustered by the lack of players left to choose from due to three injuries and one player out sick with the flu. The news that he got to play in the last few minutes of a game would usually be met with excitement, however, he was more baffled that he was called out to play at all leading to more of an incredulous open-mouth expression that he sure looked 100% sexy and not at all dweebish. Before he could make a complete fool of himself, his best buddy of forever and ever, Scott McCall, pushed him a bit saying something encouraging jarring Stiles out of his stupor.

"Uh yes, uhm, coach! Ass out and ready to go, sir!" he uttered quite intelligently most like winning him an award for most eloquent wordsmith of the month, even if Coach and some of his teammates' eye rolls and chuckles said otherwise. His ass also seemed to disagree with his mouth entirely, now that it was markedly colder and very much missing its warm home. Petty disagreements aside, both Stile's ass and mouth followed him to the field and then it all became very real.

Stiles got into position in front of previously mentioned hulk of a player completely fearful for his life. He felt his heartbeat racing violently and prayed that after the game finished it would continue racing along that track (Stiles was in fact a fan of his heart and its beating).

Stiles turned his attention to the face-off for the ball in the middle of the field where junior student and team captain Derek Hale looked poised and ready to go grinning up at his current adversary with cliché pearly-white perfect teeth. The whistle was blown and the ball was in the net of Derek's crosse lightning fast before he juked around the other player and bolted down the field scoring a goal to tie up the game.

Stiles cheered and piled into the other players at the goal, the rush of adrenaline and warmth of bodies feeling wonderful in the cold chill of the night before they had to return to position for the next play. The whistle blew again with the rival team having possession and charging fast down the field. Many bodies connected very near to Stiles and time seemed to slow down to a stop as the ball slipped out of the net of the rival team's attacker and directly in front of Stiles on the soft grass.

With a quick look around Stiles grabbed the ball that the other team seemed to have lost track of in the scramble and ran as fast as he could towards the goal, trying desperately not to trip or lose the ball in his usual clumsiness. When he got close enough to see the goalie's eyes, clumsiness inevitably struck. One of his cleats landed in a particularly soft spot on the ground, sending him in slow-motion forward and instinctively into a roll flinging the ball out of his crosse in his attempt to minimize the damage tumbling could cause at sprinting speed.

The crowd exploded in mind-numbing noise.

Stile just barely managed to get back onto his feet before he was lifted high into the air by Scott and another cheering teammate-he made a goal. From what Stiles could tell, the goalie had properly protected the exact location where Stiles was about to shoot, however the trip-up caused him to fling his stick towards the opposite corner causing the ball to soar directly past the goalie and flush into the net. Furthermore, with only a few seconds left on the clock, the game was declared over and Beacon Hills High School Varsity Lacrosse Team had won.

Stiles lucky goal had just won them the game; a game that also happened to be against their greatest rivals whom they had not beaten in six long years. It may not have been a championship or trophy-winning game but even still this was a monumental monster of a moment for plain, snarky Stiles ex-bench-warmer Stilinski.

And all he'd been praying for was for his bones to remain properly connected. They were. He triple checked in between the pinching he was doing-also not dreaming apparently.

After the crowd calmed down-sans Stiles' father and bestest bud Scott still screaming 'that's my boy/best friend'-he was let down from his perch on his teammates shoulders. His feet may have been placed back to earth but his head was still soaring in the clouds as he was being pat on the back, shoulder bumped and bro-punched from multiple angles. There would totally be bruises but at that moment Stiles was grinning like a loon and enjoying the temporary attention sucking it up like a sponge.

He knew for absolute fact this was the best day thus far in his life when he was even begrudgingly congratulated by douche bag champion of the world Jackson Entitled Whittemore (the initial E. of Jackson's middle name probably didn't actually stand for Entitled but Stiles liked to take creative liberties). The expression Jackson wore would be forever etched into Stiles' memory.

In the locker room the chatter continued loudly, Scott's arm around Stiles' shoulders dopily grinning as if he'd personally made Stile's fantastic accidental goal. Once they reached their lockers they began putting their gear away before showering the dirt and grime off in the open shower stalls.

As he was pulling on his mesh gym shorts identical twins Aiden and Ethan were suddenly in front of him, shirtless with water from their recent showers sliding along the paths their muscles created. They were both obviously unabashed by their own partial nudity and Stiles hurried to pull his t-shirt over his head to cover his much inferior build before sputtering out, "Hey guys, uh, need somethin'?"

"That was a pretty amazing play you made out there, dude," Aiden started, the more outgoing of the two twins.

"Yeah, you looked incredible out there," Ethan praised him with a smirk while his eyes seemed to appraise Stiles from head to toe causing Stiles cheeks to flush a bit, inferiority complex rearing its head once more even though he was now sufficiently clothed.

"Uh thanks, it was nothin'," Stiles muttered quite truthfully in reply since he was now starting to feel the excess attention was completely unwarranted for his lucky shot. The twins shared a look perfectly in sync with what Stiles assumed was their super freaky psychic twin powers before Aiden continued on.

"Anyways Stiles, we just wanted to make sure you were coming to our victory party tonight," Aiden spoke with such a simple confidence as if he'd been good buddies with Stiles for a while and was simply checking in about an offer he'd already made before. Stiles was pretty damned sure he'd never had a conversation with Aiden before this. He was even more sure that he'd never been invited in the history of ever and always circa forever to any lacrosse party before, much less this one.

"You want me, Stiles, to come to your house, tonight, to a party with the rest of the team and possible drinking and girls and guys and whatnot?" Stiles asked trying to make sense of the surreal experience and waiting for a catch to the invitation or even more likely for the cameras from the reality show he must currently be on to pop out from behind the lockers or something. Cameras didn't pop out. Stiles was glad they didn't. His current fish mouth expression wasn't entirely flattering even though the twins seemed plenty amused by it. The face did not need to be immortalized by film.

"Of course man, you're part of the team," Ethan assured in his friendly manner belying the fact that before today Stiles had never been invited to go anywhere other than his beloved bench. And that invitation was less invitation and more 'sit down and shut the hell up while the better players get shit done.' Stiles prided himself on the sitting but had issues with the shutting the hell up part. Can't be a pro at everything.

"Oh, yeah, we'll be there then, tonight, at the party at your house where we'll party...and stuff." Stiles was on a roll today with his eloquence at the English language and absolutely did not want to brain himself against the locker for his awkwardness.

"Awesome!" both the twins said simultaneously using their definite freaky super-twin powers that Stiles would have to Google later. At least they were ignoring Stile's social ineptitude. "Starts at ten, continues 'til we pass out," Aiden finished before both twins started heading back over to rejoin the overly attractive and muscular group of first-line players. For being a smallish high school in a not very important part of California, they had a seriously gorgeous student body which happened to be especially concentrated in its lacrosse team. That was pretty much how Stiles met his close friend inferiority.

"Uh, Scott, did we just get invited to our first party with the populars?" Stiles was a very thorough person and needed the clarity and wisdom of his best friend to assure him of such things like this. He often misconstrued things with his ability to lack focus constantly.

"Hell yeah we did! Your goal just totally gave us bro-cred!" Scott exclaimed taking the situation and invitation much less skeptically than Stiles was taking it apparently. "Now let's get our shit and get out of here to get ready. I bet your Dad is waiting for you anyways, dude." Scott continued, helping to bring Stiles wavering attention back on track to the important things like not standing in one place like a dumbass staring off into space.

"Yeah, right. Let's go, Scotty."

Before getting driven home Stiles was nearly crushed in an extremely manly hug of pride from his dad where Stile's eyes did not tear up at one bit, being a man and such. During the short ride, Stiles texted Scott about heading over his house once he was ready so that they could go to the party together. He was practically buzzing with excitement and nervousness which his dad, being the Sheriff and all, quickly caught onto. He gave Stiles a look that very plainly said 'spill it.'

"So there's this party tonight...The whole lacrosse team is supposed to be there! It's at Ethan and Aiden's place up the road a bit. Scott's going too! It's Friday so I don't have school tomorrow and-"

"Stiles," the sheriff cut him off quickly before the rambling was too far out of control. "You can go if you don't drive or get driven by anyone else at any point that has been drinking; go and leave with Scott, and don't get into any kind of trouble. I'm on night shift tonight and I swear to all that is holy if I have to see you for any reason while on duty you will not be able to do anything even remotely fun until college or later. Understand?" The sheriff was driving a fairly hard bargain considering he was talking about both Stiles and not getting into trouble in the same sentence. Given his choices though, he silently nodded his head while internally fist pumping so that he wouldn't say anything stupid to change his mind.

"I promise I won't get too stupidly wasted or be arrested, Dad." Apparently, Word Vomit Syndrome had even worse side effects than Cold Butt Syndrome-Stiles was never good at being silent or avoiding saying stupid things. The lucky streak continued since his dad only rolled his eyes and told him to shut up. Shutting up seemed like a brilliant idea at this point and was actually manageable since they pulled into the driveway and Stiles could get away before WVS could strike again (at least in front of his dad).

He briefly Googled 'freak twin superpowers' before his adderall wore off completely but only found useless Wikipedia pages on the Wondertwins and some crazy families boasting about their wonderful twin children. He catalogued the topic for further research later and tried to figure out what he had in his closet to wear suitable of a party. There wasn't very much of use to choose from. He found a shirt that Danny had lent him once when he was soaked from a rainy lacrosse practice and figured that was his best bet with Danny being stylish and all that. It was a simple forest green v-neck that fit a lot more snugly to his body than he was used to and wore a pair of seemingly clean dark grey jeans with it.

The doorbell rang just as he was trying to get his hair into something manageable-he was failing stupendously-and a minute later Scott was coming upstairs looking handsomely goofy, if there were such a thing.

"Ready to go Stiles? It's already ten, dude." Scott said seemingly way too calm about this whole thing for Stile's liking.

"Damnit, I can't get my hair to work, Scott! I know people have trouble listening to me sometimes but my damn hair could at least try when I tell it to behave. Seriously, it's like my hair is on some kind of secret mission to single-handedly disprove every single hair-care product's effectiveness and slogans one by one," Stiles rambled while trying to brush it a different way which looked stupider than the last. "Ugh, fine hair, you win this time!" He promptly messed it up with both hands vigorously giving it a bit of a messy look that would just have to do.

"It looks fine Stiles," Scott assured, the wonderful saint of a friend he is," and don't forget to grab your jacket, it's a bit cold out." Scott knew Stile's affinity for forgetting the simple important things and this is why Stiles kept him around.

He grabbed his letterman lacrosse jacket and slipped it on as they headed at a brisk pace out the door and down the street with a few streetlights and a half-full moon guiding the way through the darkness. Stiles was babbling about some of the crazy twin things he read online and about his dad being pretty lenient about him going out that night considering his usual disposition when they started hearing the tell-tale thump of party music and saw a few familiar faces going in and out of the large brick house.

When they got inside they were instantly welcomed by Boyd's large figure who was taking money in exchange for red solo cups. Stiles went to reach for his wallet when Ethan's arm went around his shoulder jovially.

"No, your money is not accepted here tonight. Boyd give him a cup," Ethan ordered grinning a bit as Stiles accepted the cup and was dragged away from Scott. Stiles looked over his shoulder but Scott waved Stiles on silently telling him he'd be fine and would catch up later. "Would u rather have beer or something a bit stronger?" Ethan asked with one eyebrow raised in question once they made it to the keg.

"Uh, have rum and coke?" Stiles replied seeing quite a few bottles of rum vodka and tequila on the counter of the kitchen.

"Sure thing," Ethan said grabbing both Stile's cup and his own and filling them both liberally with rum and a few splashes of coke before returning Stile's cup to his hand. "Cheers!" Ethan bumped there cups together and began taking a few large gulps with Stiles following right behind. He was feeling quite overwhelmed and having some alcohol running through his system seemed like a freaking amazing idea.

Ethan left him be when he spotted his brother Aiden and went to go do host things leaving Stiles to his drink in the kitchen. He took another gulp of the burning liquid and walked out of the kitchen to go find Scott. Before he managed to do any real searching, he ran into Isaac, a tall guy on his lacrosse team with cherubic features whom Stiles had always liked in the few times they'd talked.

"Want to play pong with me, Stiles? I need a partner since Ethan stole Danny from me to go do who knows what somewhere." Isaac asked much too innocently and sweetly to be ignored. Stiles shrugged and with a bright smile from Isaac was dragged towards the pong table where he started to loosen up a bit allowing himself to enjoy the simple yet competitive game.

After a few rounds of winning, he and Isaac lost to Aiden and Jackson who were being their usual douche selves about the whole thing. Isaac just rolled his eyes at them.

"C'mon Stiles, my cup need refilling anyways," Isaac said nudging Stiles into the kitchen so they could both top off their cups once more. Stiles was already feeling the effects not quite walking as well as he usually did, which wasn't very well in the first place. He was filling up his cup when he saw his team captain, Derek Hale, grinning and talking animatedly to a firecracker blonde he remembered was named Erica.

Derek was disastrously handsome for his age and had the confidence and sports ability to boot making him quite the high school heartbreaker. He had a smooth boyish face with perfectly white teeth, even if his canines were slightly sharp and pronounced. He had dark soft-looking medium length hair that swooped to one side and bright amber-hazel looking eyes that just glinted with mischief. Combine all of that with his ever developing muscle from all the sports he played and even Stiles felt himself blushing after staring for a socially unacceptably long while.

It was such a long while that Erica seemed to have picked up on it and smirked at him knowingly while brushing a hand down one of Derek's bulging biceps and giggled at something he was saying. Stiles flushed even deeper and tried to get across the room to escape quickly. Right when Stiles was passing the couple Erica had dropped her cup right in front of Stile's feet causing him to trip up expertly and fall flush into the guy that started the whole problem. Derek. Hale.

Oh, and their lips were pressed together, Derek instinctively catching Stiles between his arms looking very wide eyed and stunned. Stile's brain had a meltdown of nuclear proportions.

With the capacity to think stripped from him, he uttered a few words that might have been English and did the only thing he could do: ran. He passed by another tall blonde girl on his way out of the kitchen and ignored the curious looks of people in the living room who most likely guessed he was going to throw up from drinking too much or something. He made it upstairs to the bathroom but surprisingly didn't vomit all of his inner organs up like he felt he was going to do. After splashing himself in the face with some cold water mind reeling through millions of possibilities of what to do next including but not limited to: leaving the country, becoming a mountain man somewhere out in beacon hills, joining a convent (if they still existed), or committing harakiri in a desperate attempt to retain his pride.

As the debate of which route to go continued, he walked out of them bathroom to find himself face to face with Derek.

"Yo," Derek said nonchalantly with one perfectly furrowed eyebrow arched in amusement as if he hadn't just accidentally been forced to kiss the now uncharacteristically silent and flabbergasted Stiles.

"I'm so sorry, dude-I was just leaving the kitchen and then there was a red cup and I fell and I have really shitty trouble keeping balance and I didn't mean to kiss you and holy crap that was my first kiss and I can't even begin to think about that now because holy shit-" Stiles was cut off by Derek's extremely warm hand over his mouth.

"Calm down Stiles, it's ok, it was an accident," Derek hale continued though looking perhaps even more amused than before with a bit of a grin playing at his face. All Stiles could think about was the fact that Derek Hale knew his name. "Actually, you might be able to help me with something and your trip-up kind of gave me the idea. Can we go somewhere quieter and talk for a minute?" Derek flashed him another wolfish smile and Stiles was pudding. He nodded, Derek's hand still against his mouth, before being led down the hall to an empty room.

Stiles brain was broken. He was sitting on a bed next to Derek Hale. Alone. Door locked. He looked toward Derek realizing he'd been trying to get Stile's attention.

"Come again?" Stiles said not catching a word of what Derek was saying through his malfunction. Derek was chuckling at him. The sound made Stile's chest clench up a bit and cheeks flush.

"I was saying, I need your help to get rid of my evil ex girlfriend that's giving me a hell of a hard time. She saw the end result of your accident and huffed off in a rage. We broke up a week ago and she's been pestering me to get back together ever since no matter what I do," Derek explained. He then took a deep breath and it may have been the lighting but Stiles could swear he saw a flush around Derek's perfect tan cheekbones before he continued, "so I wanted to ask you if you could do me a huge favor and pretend to be my boyfriend for a while-at least until she gets off my back and moves on to someone else."

Stiles was for the umpteenth time that day stunned into silence. Derek. Boyfriend. Pretend. Favor. Derek. Boyfriend.

Derek seemed to take the silence as a bad sign and spoke again, "I can return the favor or something. I could help you amp up your lacrosse game so next time you score it won't be a complete accident?" Derek asked breaking Stile's out of his confusion.

"Wait, how do you know it was an accident?" Stiles asked blown away by just about everything that was happening and grasping onto the only seemingly logical part of the conversation left-his own clumsiness.

"Uh, I guess I wasn't totally positive until I saw you trip again today over the solo cup. You aren't exactly the most graceful person in the world, dude." Derek grinned full on this time obviously poking fun at Stiles this time.

"Don't you get snarky with me Mr. Hale unless you don't want my help..."Stiles trailed off trying to sound much less affected by the situation than he really was.

"No! I'm sorry, dude I really really need you to do this for me; I'm begging you man." Derek was pleading with him, grin completely gone and replaced with an almost fearful look.

"I was joking, dude, relax. I'll help you and your ex problems, just stop looking like a freakin' kicked puppy." Stiles said noting the way Derek tensed a bit before taking a deep breath and relaxing. "And I accept your offer to help me practice lacrosse. Also, since I'm the one helping you out you will be paying for all of our dates which we will be having because I am not a cheap lay. Understood?" Stiles has no idea where the bravado to say any of that came especially since his heart felt like it was about to beat out of his chest and run away.

Derek simply agreed to everything like it was nothing and traded cell phone numbers with him before smirking at him and leaning in close enough to whisper in his ear, "Ready to go out there and put on a good show, boyfriend?"

The way he said the sentence sounded more like an invitation to get ravaged and fucked into oblivion more than a fake acting endeavor but Stiles willed down the hard-on beginning to make itself known in his tight jeans before getting up to follow Derek out of the room.

He realized very quickly that he had absolutely no idea what he was getting himself into when he got downstairs, hand on fire in Derek's slightly larger hand as he was wheeled around by Derek to mingle with his classmates that were just as confused by the display of the two of the together as Stile's himself was. He was wondering how the hell they were going to pull any of this off with any credibility-especially to their closer friends-when he was pressed into a wall in the hallway by Derek's rock solid body, plush lips tickling his ear with each breath.

"We need you to have a better first kiss to remember, I think," Derek said in barely a ghost of a whisper before sliding his lips over Stiles' and slanting his head to the side a bit to delve a bit deeper. When Derek's sinfully pink tongue quested for entrance, Stiles readily gave permission slotting their tongue against each other with Derek leading the charge. Fireworks exploded behind Stile's closed eyes and he knew he wouldn't be willing little Stiles away anytime soon. The moment the kiss ended he looked into Derek's dilated eyes and pushed at his solid chest a bit giving him room to breathe.

"Jesus, Derek, do you have to do that in front of everyone?" Stiles played along knowing this was the most obvious and simple way to get everyone to believe this to be legitimate. He knew he'd have a shit-load of explaining to do to Scott, who he knows saw this with about half of the other party-goers.

"Couldn't help myself," Derek shrugged in the least sincere excuse for an apology ever, evidently much less affected by the kiss than Stiles had been. "Let's get you another drink, you could stand to loosen up a bit, babe," Derek continued grinning wickedly down at Stiles, enjoying this farce way more than was necessary.

Stiles rolled his eyes at the display and let himself get taken back into the kitchen where everything started, not able to look at Eric's smirking face at all. He heard the slamming of a door loudly in the background and looked up to see Derek's smiling face-the ex must have left not too happily. He was glad that the plan had started to work, but seeing that easy devilish smile on Derek had his stomach doing odd things. His tiny crush on Derek starting with staring in envy of him had blown up like a balloon in less than a freaking hour. He knew he was totally and one hundred percent fucked before he'd even began.


	2. Subtract Adderall, ADD Alcohol

Chapter 2: Subtract Adderall, ADD Alcohol

Stiles' Adderall might have worn off. Stiles also might have been a little bit completely wasted. Who's great idea was this again? Stiles was pretty positive it wasn't his great idea. If Scott was around, which inconveniently he was very much not around, he probably would have preemptively stopped this from happening. Stiles wondered why Scott wasn't around but was pretty sure he had a good reason to find him. Then Lydia Martin's gorgeous strawberry blond hair swished by and out the back door like some kind of beacon. Haha, beacon, like Beacon Hills. He followed her outside before he lost track of his crush of six years, four months and twenty-three days.

"Lydia! Your hair is like a bright light. You know? The ones that helps stuff find places. It's so awesome," Stiles rambled in a profound way hoping that she would appreciate his poetic endeavors. She never had before, but he could try, right? He couldn't shake that there was some reason he shouldn't be doing this though. but for the life of him he didn't understand why. He looked off into space considering this and also wondered how often bright direction-giving lights got into the eyes of travelers resulting in accidents. Shortly after pondering this great mystery, he was slapped.

"Are you even listening to me at all?" the hand said to him before Lydia's face came into focus. Stiles wondered if he could focus. He felt his other cheek get slapped. Apparently not. "Stiles." Lydia stressed the syllables more this time.

"My love! Thank god you're here. These hands keep appearing out of freakin' nowhere and slapping me and then just vanish! We need to devise a strategy to find them and plot out my revenge." Stiles knew Lydia could help him devise a brilliant plan. She was perfect that way.

"You're drunk, Stiles," she said with very little room for argument, even though he was pretty damned sure he was Stiles Stilinski and not whoever this Drunk Stiles person was that decided to steal his awesome and stylish nickname. He'd been wrong before though and Lydia was never wrong, so he must be Drunk Stiles.

"Stiles?" a deep voice questioned from space. That or Lydia had recently become a wonderful ventriloquist, which was totally possible, and could do a wonderful impression of Derek's voice. Derek? Why did that sound so freakin' familiar and important right now. Lydia would know, she knows lots of things and stuff, Stiles reasoned.

He then felt the world spin around at least seven hundred times. Or maybe he was just turned half a time to face the person behind him. The second seemed much more likely but Stiles was pretty sure it was seven hundred. After the dizziness wore off a slight bit Derek showed up. Maybe Derek would save him from further dizzy monsters.

When had Derek shown up anyway? He was just talking to Lydia, enjoying her talents as a ventriloquist and all the sudden, boom! Derek. Wait, Derek. He shouldn't have been trying to flirt with Lydia, because, Derek. That's what he was trying to remember earlier! He and Derek were fake boyfriend and he was not supposed to be flirting with Lydia because he should be fake flirting with Derek! He was about to enlighten Derek about this wonderful epiphany but when his mouth opened, only word vomit came out. Scratch that, actual vomit came out. Onto Derek. Shit.

"I'm taking you home. Now." Derek practically growled out, not looking quite as amused as Stiles felt a fake boyfriend should look. He was, however, steering Stiles along some street with a very large and very warm arm over his shoulders. That felt fairly fake-boyfriend-like to him. Stiles was not a fan of mixed signals. Or being cold. He wondered when it got so cold out. He felt something wrap around his shoulders and looked towards Derek who's jacket had mysteriously vanished.

"Where did jacket?" Stiles wondered out loud, quite glad he was now forming proper word vomit instead of actual vomit. He saw both of the jacket-less Derek's roll their eyes simultaneously. Shit! Derek had a twin with freaky twin superpowers too and never told him? What an asshole. They were fake boyfriends! This is the kind of thing someone should share with their fake boyfriend. Stiles felt indignant.

"You're wearing it, idiot." Derek said slowly but had a bit of an amused grin on his face which seemed out of place while he was insulting Stiles. Stiles felt it was important to solve this anomaly but promptly blacked out.

It was out to get him. The giant circular beacon was slowly torturing him. Stiles groaned and turned over in his bed flopping his pillow over his face to shield himself from the unfriendly light blazing his eyeballs out via his window. Fuck the sun. He recalls having thought beacons were awesome for some reason. He was deadly and unequivocally wrong. Stiles could come to terms with this; he'd be wrong before about stupider things.

Stiles sighed in relief when his shield-pillow best friend did it's valiant duty in protecting his sensitive retinas when suddenly his ears were exploding to terrible screams of horror and injustice. He blindly reached towards his dresser where the vile screams were loudest and ripped the source of the noise from the socket in the wall tossing it across the room. The screams turned into laughs, mocking him from across the room.

Apparently, pulling your cell phone-turned-alarm off of its charger did not silence it, because batteries. Fuck batteries. No, wait, batteries often helped him play video games and aided and abetted his laziness in changing the channel and such. He liked batteries. Fuck alarms. Yes, alarms were vile.

Not being able to bear the shrill beeps any longer, Stiles slowly removed his shield from his face, allowing his beacon arch-nemesis, the sun, to continue its tyrannical assault on his poor innocent eyes. His eyes had never done anything to the sun, he'd swear it!

After what seemed like days of torture, he finally managed to capture and silence his phone before flopping back onto his bed with only a moderate headache left to keep him company. Stiles needed better company.

"You awake, son?" A loud monstrous giant bellowed, breaking his one moment of peace.

"Why are you so loud, Dad! And fuck the sun. He's a vicious tyrant." Stiles said muffled by his one true friend, Mr. Pillow.

"Language, Stiles." The voice boomed in reprimand. Stiles felt justified in his assessment against the sun and would not take back his words. "Just because you have a hangover does not mean that you can lie in bed all day. Besides, breakfast is almost ready. I made waffles." The voice continued sounding somehow much more angelic now.

"Waffles?" Stiles questioned daring to peek out from under the pillow at his favorite person in the world who was armed with a wooden spoon. The beautiful and kind man did not respond but with a solid roll of his eyes skyward before leaving Stiles alone with his headache once more. Stiles would have called his dad rude for the eye roll, but waffles.

About an hour later after warm gooey waffles with strawberry topping, a much needed shower with an even more needed teeth brushing, and a solid dose of ibuprofen, Stiles returned to his room with much less animosity towards the sun and his phone. Speaking of his phone, he had about 20 texts and 3 missed called. Which reminded him that he remembered nothing about getting home or pretty much anything after that wonderful kiss with Derek.

Wait. Stiles made out with Derek. No, Derek made out with Stiles. Stiles mostly just stood there and let it happen. Well, stood is a strong word. It was more like leaned. Similar to standing but with some aid. He's pretty glad he had that aid of the wall to lean on since he's pretty sure the kiss would've knocked him off his feet quite literally.

Stiles' face heated up warmly quite embarrassed. If that was the last thing he remembered doing, he was even more afraid of what did he did not remember doing. Oh god, he couldn't imagine it getting any less embarrassing if he was already that far gone. Hell, he was relatively grateful he at least got to remember his first kiss (and quite a banging one at that, though he'd never tell Derek for fear of ego-inflation).

Even though his phone was currently silent, he could hear it mocking him for the second time that day. Stiles didn't think he had ever been more afraid of reading his text messages. He swallowed his fear down, feeling a lump in his throat as he clicked his message icon and prayed.

The majority of the messages were luckily from Scott asking where he was, if he was safe and generally hoping Stiles was not dead in a ditch somewhere. Stiles was suddenly grateful he was currently in a ditch-free zone. It seemed a very likely place Stiles might go in the dark at night with his tripping and his drunkness combining forces.

The last three texts were from Derek, all at different times.

2:24 AM: I just dropped u off in ur bed. U showed me where ya kept an extra key outside since ya left ur jacket at the twins. I would've grabbed it but u were pretty gone, dude.

10:30 AM: Hey man, let me know when you get up if u r still alive. ;]. If not I guess I could at least keep Kate off my back by saying I'm mourning the death of my boyfriend or something. Might not hold her off for too long though, so I hope u r alive still.

11:45 AM: Before I forget, we should probably hang out later today to iron some things out about how we're goin to do this boyfriend thing. Especially with our friends and all. I'm busy til about 8 but after I could come by your place maybe? Let me kno.

Stiles read through all the texts somewhere between three and a thousand times. Derek had taken him home. Derek had been in his fucking bedroom. Shit, now all Stiles could think about was Derek fucking in his bedroom. Him and his gorgeous eyes and warm arms and Disney prince charm. Stiles was always more of fan of the Disney villains and kick-ass female heroines than the cliché Disney princes, but it worked for Derek. The jackass. Fuck now all he could think about was jacking off to Derek's ass.

After running into the bathroom, slamming the door and rubbing one out, Stiles contemplated the rest of the texts with renewed clarity. Derek had apparently saved Stiles from his alter-ego, Drunk Stiles, in quite a rush as evidenced by the fact that they left his jacket behind. Which could only mean that he was doing something completely embarrassing requiring his immediate extrication from the party. Fuck.

Stiles decided on ignoring that for now, since the second text seemed fairly friendly and Derek even joked in it, even if it was a joke about Stiles and being dead. Stiles decided he was alright with this as he was not much a humor bigot. He took all types of humor including the darker ones. Humor was good; it meant he couldn't have fucked up too bad, right? If he had, Derek would also not have been asking to hang out later and continued being his fake boyfriend. Or would he? Maybe he was just really fucking desperate. He had to be pretty desperate if he was asking Stiles-maybe Derek was just too drunk himself to notice. It made more sense, anyways.

Either way, Derek asked to meet up with Stiles. Sure, it was under the pretense of faking a relationship Stiles wanted nothing more than to be a honest-to-god one but he could only deal with one life-altering issue at a time.

First on the agenda: tell Scott about being alive and ask if he could let Stiles in on anything more about his stupid crazy night. Stiles made quick work of this typing out a sufficient text and sending it being extremely careful not to mention the whole Derek/fake boyfriend incident before discussing it with Derek first. He debated briefly about telling Scott, his bestest bud, but recalled how freakin' gigantic Scott's mouth was and quickly aborted that plan altogether.

Stiles then took a solid ten minutes to revise a text to Derek in an attempt not to come across nearly as scatterbrained and rambly as his brain actually was.

1:14 PM: Hey Derek, I am alive, I think. I mean I guess I could be a ghost but then it might be hard to hit the touchscreen to get this text to you so yah. Also, any time after 8 would be fine since my Dad has the night shift. Thanks for bringing me home, btw. I don't remember it, but appreciate it nonetheless. Text me when you're on your way if you come.

He clicked the send button instantly realizing the ghost thing probably made him sound pretty scatterbrained. Oh well, he tried. Exhausted from the struggle to contain his ramble in text form, Stiles ignored his Dads' earlier words about not sleeping in all day and did the opposite. Sue him, he liked afternoon naps, ok? Especially with Mr. Pillow.


	3. Hot And Cold

Chapter 3: Hot and Cold

Due to orbit or the turning of the Earth or something, the sun was not obnoxiously blinding Stiles through his window. Stiles silently thanked Earth. This was why Stiles loved his afternoon naps. Same comfortable bed, less evil sun.

He stretched, got out of bed and made sure to take an Adderall before figuring out the rest of the day and the whole potential hanging out with Derek thing. The nap seemed to do wonders for his nerves. Then again, he wasn't actually in the presence of the model jock from a different social stratosphere.

He usually would be hanging out with Scott on most Saturdays however they were both managing their respective hangovers and decided via text to move standard video game playing and bro-ing it up to Sunday instead. It was already six in the evening and Stiles had nothing better to do than to get some of his homework done before Derek was supposed to come over. He was actually feeling oddly calm about everything and felt proud of himself for it, though he realistically knew the feeling probably wouldn't last.

Two short essays and a couple of worksheets later (along with only a few random wiki articles in between, because reasons) it was already almost eight at night and his Dad had already left for night shift. Eight was the number/time dangerously close to when Derek mentioned he would come over.

Obsessive paranoia mode activated.

Stiles kept glancing at his phone every so often (constantly) and was not sitting in the living room in case he came to the door (he was). It was just a much more convenient place to do homework without getting distracted, obviously. He realized he couldn't possibly continue his homework about five minutes later when he started to write Derek's name at the top of a worksheet instead of his own. He crumpled the worksheet up and angrily threw it before realizing that was the only copy he had and hastily picked it back up and tried to smooth it out. Stiles wasn't very good at smoothing things over.

His phone buzzed in his pocket causing him to scramble so fast to get it that he nearly fell off of the couch. Ok, he totally fell off the couch. There were no witnesses; he could get away with it this time. He keyed in his password rapidly and saw the text was, in fact, from Derek. He did not let out a breath of relief (he did). Still no witnesses.

8:26 PM: Hey, mind if I head over now? I can be there in 15.

Stiles texted an affirmative reply back hastily and promptly flipped out. Derek would be there. In only 15 minutes. Stiles glanced around the house through paranoia-vision and realized it was in no condition for Derek Hale's arrival. He fumbled to get to his feet and ran around like a decapitated chicken trying to straighten things up and put away any potentially incriminating baby photos. It wasn't his fault his parents loved him too much with food as their love-showing tool of choice. He was chubby then, ok? The point was he wanted nobody to see them.

Half-way through dusting shelves Stiles stopped abruptly. What the hell was he doing? All Derek wanted was a convenient fake relationship with Stiles to keep his evil ex 'Kate' away and was heading over to simply chat about some ground rules and such so their stories could match up and make the whole unbelievable relationship more believable. Stiles huffed at himself, angry for wasting his own time, effort and mental well-being on something (someone?) that wasn't even legitimate. He didn't need to prepare himself for some fake guy.

He calmly sat back down on the coach looking through a gaming magazine when the doorbell rang. The moment he answered the door was the same moment he realized that he was not prepared at all whatsoever for what was on the other side. Fake or not, Derek was physically irresistible to Stiles.

"Sorry I'm a bit late, man. Lost track of time practicing with Isaac," Derek stated casually in the doorway. His hair was still damp a bit from the shower he must have just taken and was wearing a stupidly flattering tank-top and mesh gym shorts in their school colors.

Stiles was not ready for this; Little Stiles, however, was totally on board and ready for this. Stiles was having troubles convincing Little Stiles to get on the same page since Little Stiles stole all the blood from his brain-what a dick. The internal struggle must have gone on too long because Derek looked at Stiles like he was a total weirdo before he continued to speak.

"Dude, I'm pretty sure this is the part where you invite me inside," Derek said with his trademark smirk in place and one eyebrow cocked up in obvious amusement.

"Oh. Oh! Yeah, come in, inside. To my house. Right," Stiles stammered out stepping aside finally to let Derek through. Stiles obviously needed to start sharing his skills in social conversation with the world. He was obvious a genius at it and was simply way ahead of his time.

Derek strode by him plopping down onto the couch so casually that it seemed like he had done it a million times. Seeing this, Stiles picked up the pieces of his dignity off of the ground and joined him, sitting on a recliner adjacent to the couch hoping that the space would help him keep his head.

"Alright, so let's figure all this shit out. You like to go by Stiles, right? Most of my friends called me Derek or Der. I know you're used to calling me Hale during practice," Derek started while Stiles just nodded dumbly. "The ex that won't get off my back is Kate. She's a senior so she'll be graduating in two months at the end of the school year so I need your help at least until then. Is that cool?" Derek asked with such ease it sounded more like he wanted to borrow a video game for a few days, not Stiles' bachelor status for two months.

"Why me?" Stiles asked, not really answering Derek at all concerning if he was 'cool' with helping Derek for two months. Even after their quick slightly drunken discussion about it, which he did remember most of thank you very much, Stiles still was curious as to how Derek could possibly think that he specifically was the proper choice to pull this craziness off.

Derek paused as if he was seriously contemplating the question for a moment before replying," There are lots of reasons, I guess. For starters, Kate saw the first accidental kiss thing without noticing the accidental part providing credibility of our supposed interest in each other. Next, you aren't a close friend of mine which could be super awkward and hard to fake since she knows all my friends at school pretty well. It also can't be with a girl because Kate would try to find a way to scare her off or something. She'd be more able to directly compare herself to another girl and try to prove she's better in every way to get me back. But Kate doesn't have the same shit a guy has to offer, if you know what I mean." A very suggestive eyebrow motion accompanied this to get the point across. There's no reason it hell it should have been sexy. Stiles thought it was sexy.

"I guess that all makes sense, but wouldn't she question the relationship in the first place because it's with a guy? And, like, you usually date girls and all?" Stiles tried to take in all of the information. It was not an easy task with Derek's tank top bunching up at the bottom showing a bit of tanned skin near his hip.

"She already knows I'm bisexual, dude. Most of my friends know," Derek said shrugging it off as if it was no big deal. Still figured it really wasn't a big deal. It probably would have never even crossed Derek's mind to put on a fake boyfriend act in the first place if he had no interest in guys whatsoever, Stiles reasoned.

"Ok, but we just met so, like, she wouldn't possibly think we're too serious yet, right? Especially if she already knows everyone you hang out with," Stiles continued trying to keep an actual back-and-forth going without completely failing for once. It helped that there were a million questions rolling around Stiles' head and very few answers. Stiles was much better at being curious than he was at having normal conversations.

"Yeah, I guess so. Which is probably a good thing since we won't have as much to fake about. We just broke up a week ago so it'd have to be a pretty recent development. Plus I figured we could use that goal you made in the lacrosse game as leverage for us talking to each other and connecting or something? Hell, we've known each other for a while as teammates and being newly single and all could have made me realize what I was missing all along or somethin'. Right?" Derek reasoned as Stiles listened in slight awe.

He had never really talked to Derek before the last two days but, for a jock, Stiles thought he seemed fairly bright. He used a word like leverage for God's sake. Stiles didn't know jocks knew words like leverage. Somehow this made Stiles like Derek even less. It made the realist in Stiles wonder what must be wrong with him.

"You know, you're pretty intelligent for being so damned attractive," Stiles said unintentionally because foot and mouth syndrome was a serious disorder that his medical insurance did not seem to cover. Seriously, someone would think being the Sheriff's son would give some leverage for better medical coverage. Fuck, now Stiles was using Derek's not-appropriate-for-jocks word.

"Oh yeah? And which of those two things are you gonna tell people made you want to be with me in this 'relationship'? Was it a stimulating conversation we shared at the party or my dashing good looks that you just couldn't resist? Or both?" Derek said in a tone that could only be described as casually egocentric. Casual seemed to be a theme with how Derek existed. Stiles hated that Derek sounded so damned confident talking about himself like that even if he was just joking around.

"Oh, shut up," Stiles said rolling his eyes. "I'm pretty sure it was simply your painful to see desperation when we were alone in that room together that made me even consider 'dating' you. After that realizing the enticing rise to fame that would come with dating you is what's keeping me around. I'm obviously just using you." Stiles replied back understanding this battlefield. Sarcasm-filled witty banter Stiles was comfortable with, even between him and Derek Hale. Being snarky was Stiles' safety blanket and kept him warm and toasty at night.

Derek chuckled at him before saying," That what you gonna tell people when they ask? I thought we wanted to make this act convincing, not see-through. I'll have you know Derek Hale is never desperate."

"Ignoring the fact that you just referred to yourself in the third-person-self-centered much?- I would like to remind you that you were, in fact, begging-on-your-knees desperate to get rid of Kate and therefore, desperate to date me." Stiles grinned back at Derek, obviously winning.

"At least I wasn't the one drunkenly chasing Lydia Martin outside the party making a fool of myself in front of her before vomiting on my fake boyfriend's shirt." Derek said, shit-eating grin in place as Stile's face turned a shade of color that only the most expensive and exquisite of ripened tomatoes could muster. Oh no he didn't.

"I did not. I think you have the wrong person," Stiles argued flatly.

"Nope, definitely you." Derek countered.

"And yet you still want me to fake being your boyfriend? I take ever considering complementing your intelligence back; it was obviously unwarranted." Stiles would not lose this, even if he did have to throw his pride under the bus in concession.

"I don't like doing anything the easy way. I like a bit of a challenge. And besides," Derek leaned in closer to whisper in a husky voice," You're kinda cute when you need rescuing."

Stiles face was one of complete bewilderment. Cute? Even if Derek was just saying it to rile him up, Stiles felt the word melt all the way down to his core and burn in his chest a bit. For a moment he complete forgot being in a heated battle of wits with the jock, but only a moment.

"I did not need rescuing!" Stiles was no damsel and would not allow himself to be thought of as one, no sir.

"You did too. I have the vomit stain to prove it. And a few witnesses of me walking you out of the party and down the street in your moment of need," Derek said, leaving little space for argument. Stiles hated witnesses. Stiles let Derek win this round, but the war was not over.

"Whatever. So, what? We just walk into school on Monday all boyfriend-y and stuff all the sudden?" Stiles asked while trying to change topics.

"Of course not, we need to work our way into that. I figured I'd come by your locker during a busy period when lots of our classmates are around and ask you out on a date. Word will spread quickly with all the people around to hear it to gossip and then we can just meet up to help tutor you in lacrosse later." Derek said and shifted a bit on the couch before Stiles heard his stomach growl loudly. "Sorry, I'm kinda starved from practicing earlier. You have anything I could eat possibly?"

"Uh, I think so. Probably a frozen pizza we could stick in the oven," Stiles answered before standing up with Derek and heading into the kitchen. "Well, you obviously know how this-" Stiles gestured between himself and Derek,"-works better than I do. Not sure if you know, but I've never really done much of the whole dating thing." Stiles took pans out of the oven and set it to pre-heat.

"Is that right?" Derek said right into Stile's ear causing him to jump a solid foot off the ground. Derek was full-on laughing at this.

"Fuck, Derek, you don't just sneak up on people like that!" Stiles turned away to the freezer to grab the pizza before slamming in down on a circular pan trying to compose himself again. He was pretty sure he wouldn't last two weeks fake dating Derek much less two months. Not without serious heart failure issues.

"God, it was just so easy though." Derek said still looking way too amused for Stiles' liking. Stiles did not think his lack of relationships and ability to be easily startled were amusing things.

"Last time I ever slave over a frozen pizza for you," Stiles muttered under his breath.

"Awe, you're no fun." Derek swung an arm over Stiles' shoulders before ruffling up his perfectly untidy hair.

"Stop that!" Stiles swatted Derek's hand away before opening the oven and sliding the pizza in, timer set for twenty minutes.

They returned to the living room and Stiles turned on the television to give them something to do without actually having to interact with each other waiting for the pizza. Stiles sat back on the recliner. Derek rolled his eyes.

"You know, you might wanna get a little bit more comfortable with me in private before you have to do it again in front of a ton of people on Monday. I promise I won't eat you." Derek obviously didn't get the memo concerning Stiles' reasoning behind turning on the T.V.

"I'm perfectly comfortable you with, but thanks for your concern," Stiles lied.

"Great, then join me on the couch for a bit. Boyfriends tend to sit together when they watch T.V." Derek said causing Stiles to look back over at Derek who was patting the empty spot on the couch next to him in invitation. Stiles was hesitant. He reconsidered the entire proposition to help out Derek. He hated himself for agreeing to it in the first place, but Stiles was a man of his word if nothing else. He didn't have much, but if he said he would do something he'd do it full throttle. That didn't mean Stile's wouldn't complain about it, though. He got up grumbling a bit before sitting much too close to the ridiculously warm adolescent for his liking.

"What are you, a frickin' furnace or something?" Stiles asked exaggerating only slightly, feeling a ridiculous amount of heat radiate at every point where his and Derek's sides connected. Derek didn't reply but chuckled softly before throwing his arm around Stile's shoulder pulling him somehow closer. Stiles could smell the heady scent that was Derek. A mix of clean-cut grass and rain and all things fresh and heady.

A few minutes passed before Derek said," See? Not so bad, right?"

It wasn't. Derek was extremely warm and Stiles' felt his traitorous body meld nicely against Derek's in a way he'd never gotten to experience before. Damn he felt like a virgin if he was even new to fucking cuddling. It was a lot less awkward than Stiles thought it might be though, a small relief. Maybe, just maybe, he could help Derek pull this off.

If Stiles was being totally honest with himself, he could admit to enjoying not being alone all night on a Saturday with his Dad at work, worrying over his Dad's safety. Sure, he often had Scott but Derek was new and incredibly more distracting. Having this fake relationship might give him more opportunities to be distracted.

"So, you actually like lacrosse much?" Derek's voice rumbled from all around Stiles causing him to shiver a bit, regardless of Derek's warmth.

"Yah, it's ok when I'm not getting plowed into the dirt. Scott wanted us to join something sporty together and I'm just an amazing friend. It's a good way to work off some stress, anyways." Stiles replied realizing that this was the first time he'd ever really explained to anyone why he was on the lacrosse team. Scott knew, but he never had to tell Scott. His Dad never asked; he was just happy Stiles was getting involved in something that kept him active and, theoretically, social.

The timer went off shortly after and they ate the pizza in relative quiet watching some family guy re-run. It didn't feel all that different from hanging out with Scott in that moment. Where it differed was in the proximity. While he and Scott still nudged each other or pushed at each others' shoulders or other simply physical gestures of brotherly affection, Derek was constantly pressed next to him. He could literally feel Derek's laughter; the low vibrations going from Derek into Stiles whenever something in the episode made Derek laugh.

A few episodes later, Stiles looked over towards Derek at the same moment Derek looked toward him. Their eyes connected, fiery hazel and sparkling amber meeting for only the briefest of moments.

"It's getting late Stiles, I've gotta get going. I'll see you Monday?" Derek's voice rumbled quietly. He didn't need to speak loudly. They were both so close and the volume on the T.V. wasn't turned very high to begin with. Stiles nodded and walked Derek to the door. Derek turned to him once more before leaving and said a single word that held way too many meanings to consider.

"Thanks."

A car engine revved in the corner of Stiles' consciousness. Lights flickered blindingly through the window Stiles was looking out of for a moment before everything went completely quiet. Once more, Stiles was by himself in that small dark house with only his thoughts to keep him company.

The side of his body that was pressed up against Derek's for most of the night had never felt colder.


	4. Raise the Curtains!

**Chapter 4: Raise the Curtains!**

The next day Scott came over, as planned, and they played some Call of Duty and talked a bit about the party on Friday night. Stiles had been worried Scott might have seen his kiss(es) with Derek (among other things that Stiles might not have even remembered at the party). Apparently, he had nothing to worry about-Scott had seen a girl at the party that he was crushing hard on (haha, hard-on), named Allison, who was new to their school and never left her side. Scott had met her in English class or something.

Contrary to his feelings prior to learning Scott knew nothing, Stiles kind of wished Scott had seen them make out in the hallway. The entirety of Sunday he felt like he was hiding something crucial from his best friend and had no idea how to bring it up without having to lie. It felt fucking awful. Though only a bit more than 24 hours, it was the longest Stiles had ever held anything secret from Scott-them having a ridiculously open tell-all policy due to their bromance of nonsensical proportions.

He knew he needed to tell Scott something but he didn't know if he wanted to let Scott in on the fact that it was fake. He was extremely worried that Scott would figure out the truth that Stiles actually _was_ crushing on Derek. And if Scott knew it was some fake relationship favor thing, he would undoubtedly blow up at Stiles for being an idiot about the whole damned thing and tell Stiles the truth that Stiles didn't want to acknowledge-that it would inevitably end with Stiles getting hurt.

Regardless, Scott would obviously find out that _something _was going on with Stiles and Derek in only one day, and he'd rather Scott find out from Stiles than the gossipy grapevine. Then, at the very least, he would have some control over this fucked up situation. He took a deep breath, steeling his resolve, before saying, "So I had my first legitimate kiss at the party on Friday."

"Seriously?" Scott asked looking away from the television turning his full attention on Stiles' now blushing face to judge if he was, indeed, serious. "What the hell man, why are you only telling me this now! That's huge, dude! Who was it? Was it good?" Scott was now grinning widely, so openly and sincerely interested as any true friend would be.

A first kiss was often considered a monumental teenage rite of passage that, in any other circumstances, Stiles would have fucking loved to share with Scott. Instead, Stiles felt miserable knowing he was about to tell a whole bunch of half-truths to his pseudo-brother.

"It was with Derek Hale. And yeah, I mean, it was really unexpected and all, but definitely really good." Stiles replied trying to tell as much of the truth as possible. It was an amazing fucking brain-melting kiss and Stiles could not have possibly expected any of the events that played out that night. Hell, part of Stiles felt like he might wake up and realize that he dreamt the whole weekend.

"Derek? As in, our lacrosse captain, Derek? The completely full of himself, cocky dude that barely ever even looked at us benchers before? Plus, wasn't he dating that bitchy blonde senior girl?" Scott questioned which started to put Stiles on edge. Usually Stiles was the one shot-gunning all the questions. Scott was usually the quieter of the two. Of course this would be the time Scott wanted to know every fucking detail.

"Yes, moron. What other Derek Hale do you know? And for your information he actually seems pretty friendly. Also, he and that girl broke up apparently." Stiles countered probably a bit too rudely.

"I dunno man, it seems to me like it took you winning that huge game for him to even pay you any attention. Do you think you, like, actually like the guy? Or was it just a heat of the moment kind of thing?" Scott pressed, quirking one of his eyebrows up.

"I mean, I dunno. We traded numbers and texted a bit and he seems interested in something. Who cares why he took interest. Plus, he's totally hot." Stiles grinned at Scott causing him to roll his eyes. "It's not like we're getting married tomorrow Scotty, so chill out with the third degree."

"I know, I know. Just be careful with that dude, ok? I've been through your entire 'Lydia is the Sun and the Moon' phase and that was barely bearable only because she never gave you the time of day. I don't think I can handle a Stiles that does get some interest back. You get pretty crazy when you get obsessed, dude." Scott grinned over at Stiles who punched Scott in the shoulder as a suitable reply.

"Shut up, you know you love me. Let's just get back to playing some more games. I think we've run out of time today for talking about feelings and shit. I might have made out with a guy, but that does not mean I want to go on and on about my feels like a teenage girl, good sir." Stiles wanted out of this conversation before he exploded from the withholding of details.

"Fair enough, lover-girl." Scott replied in his mocking voice. Stiles punched him again. He really loved his stupid best friend. "Stop it, you're gonna leave a bruise!"

Stiles shrugged.

Stiles went to school the next day feeling very twitchy. He knew what was coming but not when or any specifics. He managed not to see any signs of Derek for the first two periods and entered his third period English class which they also didn't share.

He sat down in his usual seat in class exhaling in relief. He at least had a full period where he wouldn't have to worry about Derek sneaking up behind him and drawing the curtain open on Act I.

A minute later he was snuck up on, but not by Derek. It was Lydia Martin that slid into the adjacent desk startling Stiles and causing his heartbeat to shoot off quickly at her unexpected proximity. She never sat next to him in class; not only was she sitting next to him but she was staring right at him too. If Stiles wasn't head over heels he would of found it supremely creepy and disconcerting. Instead, he found it only mildly disconcerting.

"Uh, hi Lydia, did you need something?" Stiles asked shifting in his seat, feeling oddly uncomfortable with his crush staring at him so intently.

"It seems you are a lot more sober than I remember last," Lydia said not at all answering why she was so intent on staring a hole into his face. The statement did however validate a bit of what Derek's mentioned about him making a fool of himself in front of Lydia. He must have done something pretty idiotic to garner that inquisitive glare.

"Yeah, I think I had a bit too much to drink. Celebrated too hard for winning the game and all." Stiles couldn't recall ever having as long of conversation as this with her before. It was pretty overwhelming, and strangely not in the wondrous way Stiles thought he would feel when getting to talk her.

"So, you and Derek, huh? I never would have believed it but that's what the rumor mill is saying." Lydia mentioned in a way that implied she sincerely did not believe the rumor mill. Was that why she was looking at him in such a calculating way? Verification of some rumor? Stiles wasn't ready for gossip to start spreading already. Derek hadn't even made the first move they had planned for to initiate the gossip. Did Derek tell someone something about them already without consulting Stiles first?

"Uh, I don't know. I mean, I guess we had a moment or something at the party and all. And he did kind of take me home, I think, but it was all a bit blurry." Stiles stammered out trying wrack his brain for things he could say to any other questions she might ask. Maybe he could just keep blaming his obvious intoxication.

"Of course." Lydia quirked a perfectly sculpted eyebrow at him, clearly not entirely satisfied with Stiles' answer.

The inquisition was gratefully put to a halt before it could get any more intrusive when the teacher came in and started the lesson. Stiles couldn't remember a time he was more happy to have class begin which was made more ludicrous by the fact that the lesson was intervening on a conversation between him and Lydia.

Stiles looked through the window to make sure the world wasn't imploding. It wasn't. It looked partly cloudy and boring outside. None of the cloud even remotely resembled anything exciting at all. Just puffy, grey, boring clouds.

Class continued with Lydia taking occasional glances at Stiles that were so obvious, it seemed like she wasn't even trying to hide them. She probably wasn't. It was putting him on edge. He could practically hear the cogs in Lydia's pretty head churning through millions of pieces of information trying to have a clear picture of the situation. It was fucking scary. He knew Lydia made it her job to know everything that went on in their school but he had never before been on the receiving end of it.

The bell rang and Stiles bolted out of the class. He was panting by the time he made it to his locker. He was feeling ridiculously paranoid and did not want to stay in that classroom a second longer. He was also kind of hungry. Paranoia did nothing to dissuade his hunger.

"Hey there, sexy." Derek's voice startled Stiles making him jump back and knock the back of his head against his open locker door.

"Jesus fuck, dude. You really gotta stop doing that," Stiles said rubbing the back of his head wincing from the pain. It didn't really hurt all that much but of course Derek would appear at the only moment during the day where he _wasn't _waiting and on the lookout for him.

"Awe, I didn't mean to scare you." Derek was a goddamned liar. "Let me look," Derek said closing the space between them to card his hands through Stiles' hair as if to innocently check on Stiles' bump. Stiles knew Derek was not innocent.

"I'm fine. So to what do I owe this already lovely visit?" Stiles bit out probably a bit too angrily. Derek got on his nerves so easily and he hated himself for letting the stupid jock get to him.

"Well," Derek started, stretching out the word while edging closer to Stiles. Stiles prepared himself for Derek to loudly ask him on some fake date they weren't actually going to go on. Instead Derek kept leaning into Stiles even closer from behind until his mouth was ghosting along the shell of Stile's ear before whispering into it, "Be ready for all the looks and attention you're gonna get soon."

The words, though tame enough in themselves, sent a shot of electricity down Stiles' back. Stiles rationalized the jolt as a reaction to being startled by the realization that people were, indeed, paying their chat a lot of attention-it had nothing to do with Derek or his heated breath or his stupidly low baritone voice. Seriously. It didn't. He continued to feel everyone staring at them. Some barely even tried to hide their curiosity. Rude, much?

"Make sure you come sit with me at lunch," Derek said a good bit louder this time before slapping Stiles' ass lightly and running off down the hall. The bastard was obviously playing with him. Derek knew Stiles committed to help him and was taking amusement in toying around with Stiles. Derek was totally ad-libbing in any way that would get under Stiles' skin. Douchebag.

By the last period before lunch, Stiles was already hearing whispered comments concerning Derek and himself, one of which, 'Hale and Stilinski? You have to be kidding me,' he heard clearly. Did people in their school even try to be slightly surreptitious? Stiles made a note to himself to never hire anyone from Beacon Hills High for a job requiring any amount of stealth.

The looks and murmurs continued even more often and louder when he got out into the hallways heading for the cafeteria. He entered the large room with his packed lunch and saw Derek instantly even with the sea of students present. To be fair, it wasn't very difficult a feat considering Derek sat at the same table with mostly the same group of people every day. No one had dared to try sitting at that specific table without an invitation ever since Derek and his posse claimed it in fear of social suicide.

He took in a deep breath, trying to act normal (an ambitious task for Stiles) as he walked straight over to Derek. When he reached the table he saw Derek raise his prominent eyebrows in a weird dance of sorts to Isaac who was sitting next to him. Apparently it meant something, because Isaac got straight up out of his seat, rolled his eyes and moved to the seat across from Derek.

"Hey," Stiles started awkwardly. It was usually Derek who was the first to speak and Stiles didn't know what to expect. Also, there were like a million billion people staring at him.

"Hey Stiles, come sit I saved you a seat," Derek responded as if he hadn't just eyebrow'd Isaac into moving at all, trademark grin in place looking purely satanic. Fuck, Derek may just be a sexy villain yet with some kind of weird psychic eyebrow powers. He mentally added psychic eyebrow powers to his list of things to Google. It was a pretty impressive list.

"Of course you did," Stiles said while sliding into the proffered seat before surveying the mix of students at the table. His surveying was met with a combination of both strange and bored looks. He knew everyone there, most from the lacrosse team.

To Derek's left was the same blond bombshell from the party, Erica. Further down was Boyd and Aiden. Across from them was Lydia and Jackson who were next to Ethan and Isaac. Stiles knew he was the focus point of the table and he felt something akin to stage fright which was strange in a small table setting. To be fair, it was basically about to be a show, regardless of the audience. A very critical audience that did not seem to be Stiles fans. Except Erica, apparently.

"Well aren't you just so adorable," Erica said smirking devilishly looking between Stiles and Derek knowingly. "So you're Der's new boytoy then, huh?" It wasn't really a question. It also felt like more of a true description than any other Stiles had come up with.

"Oh shut up Erica, don't scare the poor guy," Isaac said before turning to Stiles. "Just ignore her, she loves getting to people."

"More like getting it on with people," Jackson chimed in. Erica threw a balled up wrapper at his head. Lydia rolled her eyes unamused; she was obviously used to their antics.

"You wish you could get with this hot piece of ass," Erica bit back smiling in what Stile's could only describe as a predatory way. To her credit, she wasn't lying about having a nice ass. The nice ass was a high school development, along with her pronounced cleavage. Stiles vaguely remembers in middle school that she barely talked and was kind of mousy looking. Puberty was very kind to some people.

"So how's your day been so far?" Derek asked him taking his attention back from the extremely comfortable group of friends.

"Eh, pretty boring. Though Greenburg did knock over his lab partner's Bunsen burner. Her hair caught fire for a second before the teacher ran over and put it out. It was pretty classic shit." Stiles had only felt right laughing at the time of the incident because the girl wasn't actually injured and either way she should've known better than to let Greenburg anywhere near fire. Silly girl.

"At least that's something. I had to sit through Harris monotone voice talk about plants or some shit most of the day. I swore I'd die in that room." Derek said and Stiles felt a hand slide onto his thigh. He almost jumped up out of the chair but reigned himself in enough to only jerk his knee a bit underneath the table. Derek was practically glowing with contained mirth. He knew exactly what he was doing. Asshole.

Stiles turned his attention away from the table and saw Scott giving him a questioning look. Stiles didn't know how he felt about that look and wasn't sure if Scott saw Derek's hand on his leg or not but tried to express a 'don't worry about it, I'll tell you later' to Scott silently with his eyebrows. Scott just looked confused. Derek made it look easy. Stiles was not as gifted in the eyebrow department it seemed. Stupid eyebrows.

He returned his attention to the group at the table who were all discussing the next lacrosse game and ignoring Stiles finally. Stiles had rarely felt more grateful.

The rest of lunch went on without incident and it was almost easy. Stiles even interjected occasionally with a snarky comment. Some of them even laughed at Stiles' jokes. It was weird; nobody except Scott (and sometimes not even Scott) laughed at his jokes. Stiles looked outside again. Still very little evidence of apocalypse.

"So you're coming over to my place today after school, right Stiles?" Derek asked casually while walking Stiles back to his locker, arm across Stiles' shoulders. Derek was more handsy than the Hindu god Kali. Or was it Vishnu? Whatever, the point was that Derek was handsy and Hindu gods always seemed to have tons of hands.

"Yeah, I guess, you said you were gonna help me practice lacrosse and I'm keeping you to that." Stiles was slightly scared of actually getting to play lacrosse, which seemed like a much more likely possibility after the last game. He was not going to forget Derek's part of their ridiculously unfair bargain. Derek got a fake boyfriend to mess around to keep his evil ex away (whom Stiles still hasn't even met) while Stiles got fucking lessons in a sport he was afraid of playing (dying) in.

He seriously needed to remember never to haggle after drinking. There was a long list of things Stiles shouldn't do while drinking. It wasn't getting any shorter.

"Of course. I'm looking forward to it. Especially since I have _so _much to teach you." The way Derek said it was obviously intended to get to Stiles. Stiles did not imagine an extremely naughty after-practice teacher/student scenario with Derek teaching him all sorts of lessons in a classroom after hours. Stiles was an innocent teenage boy who did not daydream about sexytimes with ridiculously good looking captains of lacrosse teams with crazy eyebrows.

"Yeah, yeah, what time should I be there?" Stiles asked extremely proud that his voice only cracked a tiny bit.

"Just meet me at my car after school and I'll bring you back with me. Oh, and be ready to meet some of my family. They don't like it when I bring people over without being properly introduced. I'm sure they won't mess with you too much though, so don't worry." Derek said ominously before leaving Stiles to finish the rest of the school day.

Did nobody ever tell Derek that whenever you don't want someone to worry you make sure specifically not to say _don't worry_? Stiles hated reverse psychology. Stiles also hated Derek and his stupid way of springing shit up on Stiles every second.

He was about to meet Derek's family. He even _agreed _to go over not even thinking about meeting the family. As Derek's supposed boyfriend.

Stiles was definitely worried.


	5. Storm

Chapter 5: Storm

Stiles was at his locker after the last class of the day had finished when Scott came around and Stiles felt like he hadn't seen his best friend all day, even though they shared two classes together. They usually dawdled between classes and always ate lunch together. Missing those short periods of time felt like a lot when they were essentially stuck together as if by some kind of invisible magic super glue.

"So are you and Derek, like, a thing now?" Scott asked not even bother to use pleasantries. That was pretty much their relationship though-no bullshit, just come right out and say what's on your mind.

"I dunno, I guess? We're, um, going on a date tonight to test the waters I guess. Which is a lot bit overwhelming since, well, you know how much experience I have with dates." Stiles sighed and felt that familiar pang of guilt in his chest whenever he had to lie of his thing with Derek to Scott. It was getting a bit easier to do though and that kind of made Stiles feel even worse.

"Well, whatever happens you'd better tell me all the details afterwards." Right as Scott said it his lips puckered in a sour expression. "Actually, don't tell me every detail. There are just some things I'd rather not hear. But I still expect a summary this time." He bro-punched Stiles and Stiles tried to give his best grin back.

"What, Scotty, you don't want to hear about us doing the horizontal mambo on our first date? And you expecting me to be able to summarize anything just shows how little you really know me. Honestly, I thought we were closer than that." Scott rolled his eyes. "Either way, gotta get moving, Derek's probably waiting for me or something, and I kinda doubt he's the kind of dude to wait very patiently, either."

Scott nodded his head in agreement. "That's fine I gotta get to work at the vet's anyways. Text me later, bro. I'll see you tomorrow in class." They bro hugged and Scott left in the opposite direction with a wave heading towards the back of the school where the buses came. Stiles shut his locker with a bang and dragged his feet all the way to the upperclassmen parking lot.

He found Derek leaning against the side of a ridiculously sleek and expensive looking black Camaro. It looked freshly washed and waxed. It probably always looked waxed. Stiles also noticed the sun had finally come out from the boring clouds just to make the whole scene painted in front of him glow more brightly. Even the fucking sun tried to appease Derek. Stiles couldn't help but feel like he might be projecting a bit too much onto the sun.

"How the hell is this your car? We live in Beacon Hills for god's sake, not flippin' Hollywood. What the hell does your family do?" Stiles might have been a bit envious. He tried his best not to let it show through his voice. The way Derek was looking right through him confirmed that he failed spectacularly.

It was a really nice fucking car, ok?

"So are you actually going to get in the car or are you just gonna keep drooling all over it?" Derek exaggerated-Stiles was totally not drooling all over the car, just a small portion of it.

Stiles also noticed that Derek did not answer him about what his parents did for a living. Interesting. Maybe they were involved in something scandalous. Maybe they were ninjas. Maybe they were involved with scandalous ninjas. Stiles felt these were all fairly reasonable options. Derek did have a way of sneaking up on him way too quietly to be normal. Then again Stiles wasn't exactly the most attentive to his surroundings. He tried, there were just so many distracting things in the world to mull over.

Ninjas being one of said things. Ninjas were sweet. Stiles could never be a ninja.

"Are you even listening?" Derek asked him a few minutes after they screeched speedily out of the school grounds. Stiles wasn't. He didn't even realize Derek was talking, too lost in his own mental ramblings.

"Nope." Derek gave Stiles an exasperated look and a petulant huff. "Hey, it's not my fault ninjas are more interesting than your lacrosse diatribe or whatever."

Derek's expressions turned to one of lost confusion, kind of like a puppy as it failed to learn a new trick. Stiles couldn't help finding it stupidly adorable. It was almost the exact same look Scott gave Stiles whenever his babbling got out of hand, except with Derek he felt his jeans get a little bit tighter. Stupid hormones. Stiles shifted his backpack over his lap.

"Ninjas? Really? Is that what's going on up there?" Derek asked obviously new to the inner workings of Stiles' mind. To be fair to Derek, seasoned Stiles professionals (namely the Sheriff and Scott) still had no idea 'what's going on up there.' Stiles' mind was an enigma. Haha, Spongebob. Well technically Patrick, but the show was Spongebob. Details.

"For your information, Spongebob is currently what's going on up there. Ninjas were so two minutes, ago." Stiles stated like duh, get with the program Derek.

"Of course." Derek paused for a moment. "Anyone ever tell you you're a weird kid?" Derek was half-smiling as he asked this; it didn't make Stiles' stomach feel like it was doing a flip.

"Only everyone. Especially my Dad. Though I'm not a damn kid. You're only one year older than me unless you forgot." Stiles said grumpily while crossing his arms over his chest in a petulant way that wasn't helping his case any.

"Hey, I don't want any problems. No need to rage, dude." Derek arms twitched as if he wanted to raise them palms up in a gesture of surrendering but couldn't because they were on the steering wheel. At least he wasn't a reckless driver. Stiles couldn't help feel that he was paying too much attention to Derek's body language if he was inferring that much from simple twitching. Maybe he wasn't even correct, just extrapolating what he wanted to out of meaningless twitchiness.

They were both silent for the rest of the short drive, only a slight air of tension surrounding them. Stiles wasn't actually upset anymore but didn't really know what to say after his own outburst. His usual urge to ramble on and on was quelled by a mixture of the tension, nerves and presence of a guy who he knew very little about (apart from his own misplaced judgments).

He was quickly coming to the realization that there were many sides of Derek which collectively made up some sort of intricate meshwork that Stiles couldn't figure out. One moment Derek was trying to rile him up being aggressively flirty and obnoxious and others he seemed relatively caring and charming. The hardest part for Stiles was knowing that all of it was a farce. Deep down Stiles knew from the moment he first saw Derek pleading for his help he was already beginning to fall for him. Stiles rarely felt needed for anything and in that moment, a guy that was physically the material of Stiles' wet dreams said he needed Stiles.

He couldn't have possibly rejected that kind of plea. Even knowing the potential risk for getting too invested and getting his feelings shattered, he never could have denied the look in Derek's eyes that night. Ever since Stiles had trapped himself, he had been futilely attempting to run from the emotional consequences.

Stiles had been running for a long time. He ran from his feelings and issues like the plague. His entire obsession with Lydia was a perfect amalgamation of the desire to have an emotional and sexual connection while maintaining the ability to easily sidestep developing actual feelings. She was unreachable and therefore a perfect scapegoat. His entire friendship with Scott only worked because they were both so young when it had begun and his trust that Scott would never intentionally hurt him was absolute.

Stiles hadn't had other relationships not because couldn't make friends or couldn't get dates, but because his warped logic had him fearing the consequences they could bring. This led to years of running and erecting walls out of fear which only served counterproductively to intensify the desire for exactly those relations he was trying to avoid.

"Hey, you ok over there?" Derek's voice cut through his deliberations like a finely whetted knife. Derek sounded so earnestly concerned with Stiles' pensiveness that Stiles instinctively jerked his head in surprise only to have their eyes connect. Derek's eyebrows were tightly furrowed in confusion as to why Stiles was so far gone and his hazel eyes seemed to glow, boring into his own in a need to understand and comfort him.

Startled by those warm discerning eyes, Stiles finally realized: he was tired of running.

A few salty tears slid down his cheeks in his frustration at himself for years of his own stupidity. Stiles ignored the look in Derek's eyes that were still gazing into his, surely filled with pity, as he leaned in overcome with the need to kiss Derek. Unlike their other kisses, Derek did not press or take any initiative in it. He simply let Stiles mold their lips together chastely and rubbed warm soothing circles in Stiles' back in a slightly awkward position in the small car.

A few moments later they broke apart and Derek took his thumb gingerly to Stiles' face to wipe away the final lingering drop. Stiles muttered something of an apology and used the sleeve of his shirt to try and rub away the rest of the wetness.

"I doubt you wanna go inside my house right now looking like that. Would you wanna walk on the trail in the woods with me and get some fresh air, instead?" Derek asked softly as if he was worried speaking too loudly might cause Stiles to break down again. "I mean, I can take you home if you rather be alone with whatever it is that's troubling you." Derek added quickly looking lost and hesitant. It was the first time he had ever seen Derek appear anything but sure of himself.

"I think being alone might have been the problem, actually. Some fresh air might be nice." Stiles didn't want to elaborate and Derek didn't push even though Stile's could tell he was itching to.

They both got out of the car which was parked on a dirt path near the woods and Derek directed Stiles towards a well-worn trail that seemed almost out of place in the remote area of the forest. Stiles vaguely remembered hearing about how Derek lived on a preserve of some sort and wondered how often he or his family must have walked that path. He didn't see the house around but it couldn't have been too far. Derek must have stopped before getting there because of Stiles.

Stiles couldn't help the warmth that spread through his chest at that thought even through his emotional state.

The clouds had returned, darker than before creating a gloomy yet serene atmosphere that suited Stiles much more during their walk than would an ironic sun beaming happily through the tall treetops. The path was not very wide but instead of walking in file Derek just pressed close to Stiles while leading them through, obviously familiar with the trail. He also seemed to have some destination in mind but Stiles didn't particularly care if there was or wasn't one.

Neither of them talked throughout the walk except for when Derek would warn Stiles about stepping certain places and to keep him from touching certain plants. After a mile or so they ended at moderately sized rushing river. Derek took off his shoes and sat down on some dry stones that poked out of the river to dip his feet into the clean looking waters. Stiles followed suit and stared down at his feet wiggling underneath the cool river.

"So are you sure everything's ok? You seemed fine and then all the sudden you were silent-which was weird-and you just looked like the world was crumbling around you or something. It wasn't the kid thing was it? 'Cause I'm really sorry about it and didn't mean to upset ya." Derek stammered and was pointedly looking away from Stiles and of course he thought Stile's internal meltdown was all his fault. Not that Derek wasn't a catalyst, but it was Stiles meltdown and he only had himself to blame.

"No, it wasn't the kid comment though I was kind miffed about that." Derek was looking back at him now, one of his eyebrows raising at the word 'miffed.' "I'm just an emotionally constipated idiot and you had bad timing to be the one around when I decided to face my stupid problems."

"I don't think your problems are stupid. And I think my timing was brilliant. At least I hope I was able to help a little bit because of it." Derek flashed him a toothy smile before shoving Stile's a bit at his shoulder. "But now that you seem to have put yourself back together it's time to head back to my place and play some mindless video games."

"Weren't you supposed to help me with lacrosse? Are you trying to wiggle your way out of my end of the deal?" Stiles quirked an eyebrow in question getting back to his joking ways.

"No way, it's gonna storm any second now and I can't possibly teach anything to an emotional wreck of a teenager. Duh." Derek was putting his shoes back on alongside Stiles before they both headed back the way they came.

"Sure, excuses excuses. I'm onto you, buddy. I'm just letting it go this time because playing video games sounds pretty awesome and I'm fucking starved." Stiles retorted but as soon as they made it out of the woods, rain started falling in large sheets and thunder ominously rumbled in the sky. Derek grabbed Stiles hand and ran over a hill leading him towards the large house Stiles didn't get to see before.

They were both hunched over panting from the spring (much moreso Stiles than Derek) when Derek lifted his head up with a cocky smirk and said," See, told ya."

"Shut up." Stiles punched Derek in the arm like he would Scott and felt incredibly relieved for the first time in a long while.

They both stripped out of their clinging clothes when they got to Derek's room and Stiles made sure to peek at the ridiculous physique his captain had now that he wasn't trying to push Derek away as much as possible. He cheeks fired up at the fleeting glance and continued to maintain a pink color as he pulled one of Derek's dry shirts over his head. It smelled intoxicatingly like a mixture of clean laundry and Derek and Stiles couldn't help feel awkward as he inhaled as much of the scent as he could.

"You feeling ok? You look kinda flushed; I hope you don't catch a cold from getting wet." Derek said while pressing his forearm against Stile's forehead all the sudden inside Stiles' bubble. "You don't seem feverish at least." Stiles only flushed more at the contact and concern and then Stiles could practically see a light bulb flick on above Derek's head.

"Like something you see?" Derek's toothy half grin looked extremely predatory as he crowded Stiles against the back of the closed door. Just when Stiles was about to make some kind of sarcastic remark it became lodged in his throat from Derek nipping at said throat. Stiles tried to voice his opinion again but all that came out was a tiny whimper as Derek continued creating many small marks by nipping and sucking on Stiles' pale skin.

Stiles no longer felt any chill from coming in through the rain. Derek's body burned against his and he seemed encouraged even more by seeing at how easily Stiles skin blemished by his ministrations. Stiles couldn't find the energy to care that everyone would see them the next day and know exactly how they got there.

Derek stopped pulling his head level with Stiles' looking extremely disoriented and almost drunk. He pulled a small distance away from Stiles and Stiles wanted nothing more than to drag him back.

"Sorry about that, we shouldn't fool around like that when your emotions are all on edge. Let's just played some video games and get you back before my family gets home." Derek said moving around to turn on the console and grab a pair of controllers. Only then did Stiles realize how odd it was that they were alone the whole time since getting inside the large house.

"Wait, you said they were gonna be here and were going to mess with me earlier today." Stiles said eyebrows knitted together in the middle.

"Oh that, I was just fuckin' with ya." Derek grinned wide at Stiles while tossing him a controller and Stiles felt butterflies snort crack inside of him before fluttering around wildly.

"You asshole!" He punched Derek in the arm.


	6. Belief

**Chapter 6: Belief**

**A/N: Read and Review! I'd love to hear feedback. I promise I don't bite hard, even if sexy werewolves do. 3 **

Nothing very interesting nor special occurred over the next few days after Stiles' self-proclaimed 'Overly-Dramatic Breakdown and Heart-2-Heart in the Woods', otherwise known as the event that never happened. During that time Derek did tell Stiles he was awful at making titles for the events in his life but Stiles had just looked at him confused and said, 'I don't know what you're talking about, nothing happened.' Yeah, Stiles was a true artist of denial; but if you asked him, he'd surely deny it.

It was already Friday and the only differences to Stiles' school week PDA (Prior to Derek Association-ha! See Stiles was great at making awesome titles/acronyms and Derek was simply jealous) were him and Scott sitting at a new lunch table; Stiles getting a lot more looks than usual from passersby; and, redundantly enough, PDA (Public displays of Affection-standard acronym this time, not Stiles attempt at being witty).

In fact, even the PDA with Derek was minor: an arm around the shoulders and a kiss on the cheek here and there. They both were fairly tied up with exams and only saw each other for a few minutes in between classes at Stiles' locker or during lunch period. They hadn't even been able to meet up after school to practice lacrosse much less anything else (not counting standard lacrosse practices with the whole team).

First impressions aside, Stiles found himself getting along fairly well with most of Derek's Posse. Derek always looked at Stiles like he was a moron whenever he referred to his friends as a posse but Stiles liked it so he would have to deal. Stiles learned that both Erica and Isaac were closet comic nerds which was freakin' awesome-Scott had tried over the years for Stiles' sake, bless him, but was never really able to properly nerdgasm. Now Stiles could nerdgasm in a threesome instead of alone in his room with the door locked. When their love for comics first came out at the cafeteria table out they had all burst into the most wonderful nerdgasm threeway ever but were glared down by all the adjacent tables. Apparently nerdgasming still wasn't appropriate in public, even with friends.

He even made a small bit of headway in having a real life conversation with Lydia, though she still seemed skeptical about him. Stiles figured she had the right-his obsession might have been the tiniest bit creepy in retrospect (he might have saved a lock of Lydia's hair in the 8th grade-he'd deny it).

Stiles was able to make conversation with Danny because Danny had the patience of a saint and could talk to literally anyone easily. He answered any of Stiles ridiculous questions about gay guys/butt sex in however much detail Stiles wanted. Stiles found himself to be an extremely detail-oriented individual. Everyone else found it insufferable including Boyd. Well, maybe. Boyd was pretty quiet most of the time so it was hard to tell for sure.

He also finally met Scott's super-crush Allison Argent and she seemed every bit as kick-ass as Scott made her out to be. Stiles was impressed. Stiles was also terrified; Allison and Lydia had became quick friends and the combination scared the shit out of him, no joke. When they would whisper with each other and begin giggling uncontrollably was the most frightening by far. Two overly intelligent borderline psychopathic females giggling together was simply...Stiles shuddered at the thought.

Note to self: do not cross.

Stiles didn't get to know the twins very well but Aiden seemed somewhat like an asshole the more he got to know him while Ethan was mostly quiet. Stiles always found watching Ethan funny though since he often sat between Danny and Isaac and it was like he didn't know who to look at. Too much eye candy, too little time.

Jackson was still a giant douchenozzle who sprayed doucheness all over the place. Still, it was fun to watch him say something extra-stupid and get glared at by most of the table (now ft. Allison).

The school bell rang followed by the end of day announcements which officially declared the start of another weekend. Stiles was extremely psyched, especially since there were no lacrosse games that weekend. He was also excited because he was supposed to practice lacrosse with Derek after school and hang out with the entire gang of new friends he had made on Saturday night at Jackson's house.

Stiles got to his locker and grabbed all his things before shoving them haphazardly into his backpack and throwing it over a shoulder. Armed with all of his stuff, he headed outside to meet Derek, trying to hide his budding giddiness from reaching his facial expressions. It was a losing battle.

He was grinning so very madly that his eyes were squinting a bit as he briskly strode outside and into the blinding afternoon sunlight. The product of these two forces caused him to run directly into a brick wall and fall straight onto his innocent butt. And by wall he meant person. And by person he meant Derek, whose bricks were like muscles. Muscles were like bricks. Whatever, it was hard to think straight when Derek's muscles were on his mind (pun totally intended). He'd much rather Derek's muscles be on different anatomy than his mind. Anyways, the point was Derek was ripped and Stiles was still on his ass ogling upward at Derek like a dope. He probably looked like he was _on_ dope. He wasn't on dope. He wishes he was on dope; at least then he'd have a reasonable excuse for still being on the ground after approximately one eon of staring. Right. Getting up. Good idea.

Before Stiles actually managed to pull off the whole getting up idea, Derek literally pulled him effortlessly up off the ground and onto his feet. Derek was then brushing off Stiles' shorts, presumably to rid them of any dirt from the ground. Derek's hands seemed to think there was a higher concentration of dirt on his ass than anywhere else . Which there probably was, because falling on it. Stiles' ass wasn't complaining. His dick shared his ass's sentiments.

"Earth to Stiles." Derek patronized Stiles' spaciness, amusement evident with his perfectly arched singular eyebrow and trademark smirk.

"Sorry about that, the whole running into you thing. I still need to learn how to pay attention to where I'm going I think. Might've been sick the day that lesson was taught in kindergarten. Or not paying attention to it. Either way, thanks for helping me up and all, though I could've gotten up myself, dude. Like you totally-"

"Stiles." Derek cut him off sharply.

"Yah?"

"Shut up." Derek said with minimal heat behind the words before turning around and heading off towards his car, Stiles scrambling to follow behind. Stiles was only slightly indignant about Derek cutting him off like that until he reached the car where Derek was holding the passenger door open for him like a gentleman.

"Uh, thanks." Stiles said weakly. Derek gave a slight nod in response before walking around to the drivers' side and pulling out of the parking lot to head to the Hale household.

During the short ride they discussed what they were going to be doing during their private lacrosse session and the party the next night. After the ride they swiftly changed into their lacrosse gear and walked to the large open field that was Derek's backyard. They stretched together and warmed up their muscles a bit by tossing the lacrosse ball back and forth. A few minutes passed and Derek steadily ramped up the intensity of their game of catch, throwing the hard rubber ball with more force each time. Stiles began to have trouble catching the ball after a few more throws and wasn't able to return the throws with nearly as much accuracy or power as Derek.

"Stop, stop." Derek called out, walking over to Stiles who was already panting a bit from exertion. "Here," Derek said when he was standing right next to Stiles. "Your grip is too narrow and loose to keep control." Derek grabbed his hands and moved them further apart on the stick, then squeezed them to get Stiles to tighten his grip. Stiles blushed a bit, trying to focus on the tips he was given and not the innocent physical contact that shouldn't affect him so much.

"Also, you need to keep your focus the whole time when you're throwing and catching. You often seem to drift momentarily and then jerk a bit." Derek continued. Derek apparently didn't know Stiles and his ability to focus very well. Stiles rolled his eyes.

"You do know I have ADD, right? I mean, I'm not literally wearing signs on me that say it but I'm pretty sure everyone from here to Japan knows." Stiles said sarcastically making wild hand gestures to make sure the point got thoroughly across.

"Yeah, I know. I also know that a lot of pro athletes have ADD and can actually have a hyper-focus during high stress and competitive situations like games. You can do it if you want to. Just believe in yourself like I do." Derek shrugged and ran back to his post to continue practicing but Stiles was totally flabbergasted. Not only did Derek not look at Stiles like some useless scatterbrain because of his ADD but he even said that he had _faith _in Stiles.

For the rest of practice Derek's words continued to float around Stiles' head, spurring him on to focus like he never had before. He amazed himself at how much better he was doing the drills. He still missed some of Derek's more aggressive throws, but the progress was indisputable.

"Alright, I think that's enough for today. You did great, Stiles." Derek ran over to him grinning jovially which had Stiles returning the grin full force. They were both damp from sweat as they removed most of their lacrosse gear. Stiles couldn't help but find the sight of Derek after a good workout completely charming. His raven black hair was matted to his head framing it and there was a slight pink plush in his flawless tan cheeks. Stiles felt his heart skip a beat and knew he'd forever cherish the youthful visage.

"It's all thanks to you. You're an awesome coach." Stiles said truthfully, thinking for the first time that he might have a chance at being a decent player. He'd always loved lacrosse but started letting go of the idea that he'd ever amount to anything in it beyond his affair with the bench.

Stiles took the first shower when they'd both entered the house. He moaned audibly at the wondrous and soothing feeling of the steamy water on his abused muscles. He hadn't thought ahead enough to bring any shower supplies so he used the ones that Derek had left him. The shampoo, conditioner and body wash all looked expensive and had a pleasantly clean smell to them. Stiles took in the oddly harmonious mixture of mint, the air after a spring rainfall and something musky that gave it a very heady and masculine odor.

It smelled just like Derek. Not that Stiles had memorized exactly how Derek smelled from their few encounters or anything. Nope.

After he was finished showering, he changed into a pair of his gym shorts and a tank top that he borrowed from Derek. He walked into Derek's room to tell him he was done but the moment he walked past the threshold he was pulled in flush against Derek's body. He froze stiff as a board as Derek shoved his face into the juncture of Stiles' neck and shoulder. He could distinctly hear Derek deeply inhaling followed by fever hot puffs of breath against his skin.

"Uh, hi?" Stiles said dumbly, voice sounding much too loud as it broke through the eerie quiet. Derek took his turn to freeze up before shoving roughly past Stiles and into the bathroom. Stiles was completely confused by the odd behavior. A few seconds later he heard the patter of water hitting the floor signifying the start of Derek's shower.

After they were both clean they went to the kitchen and ate like two starving men (or average teenage boys after a workout) and both silently agreed to avoid mentioning the previous happenings. Stiles left shortly after before any other of the Hales arrived and noted a distinct lack of the usual physical contact he was almost getting used to while around the older teen.

He pulled his jeep into the driveway and sighed as he walked into his empty house. His Dad must've been called out for work again-they had planned on watching old classic movies that night after he got back from Derek's house. It was confirmed when he saw a note jotted down on a piece of paper in the kitchen.

He felt even more alone then usual and wanted to text or call Derek but didn't know what kind of terms they were on after the strange evening and more so didn't want to appear needy. He ended up inviting Scott over and they played video games late into the night.

When he finally felt tired enough to go to sleep despite the muddled musings in his brain, he dragged himself to his bed and focused intently on the one set of words that his Mom used to tell him often when she was still alive, "_Always believe in yourself, just like I believe in you, and everything will turn out alright_."

For the first time, he believed.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7: Let's go to the mall! **

Stiles was literally dragged out of bed. On a Saturday morning. Why wasn't the freedom to sleep in past noon on a weekend not in the constitution? Did the writers have no sense of justice? He moaned his disapproval and groped wildly for the blankets that were villainously stolen from him and placed out of his reach.

"Mmnnrghf!" Stiles demanded, wanting whatever vile creatures that would commit such awful deeds to leave after returning his precious cocoon of softness.

"Rise and shine, Stiles! We have a lot of work to do!" Lydia said saccharinely startling Stiles into being fully awake. He blinked a few times to clear the haze from sleep and saw both Lydia and Allison looking sweetly (menacingly) down at him.

He was wearing naught but batman briefs. He quickly tried to cover himself with his lanky arms and squealed a manly squeak of embarrassment. Lydia simply rolled her eyes at the display and continued to look unabashed by Stiles' lack of clothes. Allison had the decency to at least look away from Stiles, though they both stayed in the room.

"What's going on here? Why are you guys both here? Am I dreaming? 'Cause this is either an amazing dream or a crazy nightmare." Stiles said fumbling quickly through the words and considered pinching himself just in case.

"Last night you told Scott that you were mooning over Derek but seemed insecure somehow after whatever date you went on yesterday. Then Scott told Allison that you told her you were crushing on Derek, and Allison told me that Scott told her that you told him that you crushing on Derek. So we're going shopping." Lydia said quickly sounding rather bored until the very last statement where a terrifying gleam sparked dangerously like fire in her eyes.

"Was I supposed to understand what you just said?" Stiles asked, boy brain not able to keep up with the intricacies of girl gossip. Girl gossip that included his ex-best friend Scott. Traitor. He knew he couldn't tell that untrained puppy eyed boy anything.

"It doesn't matter. Put on something easy to change out of and take a shower. We're leaving to go to the mall in precisely twenty minutes. I looked through your closet for the party tonight and you have absolutely nothing I can work with." Lydia said with a curled lip obviously disgusted by his lack of fashionable wardrobe.

"Wait what about food? And morning cartoons! And the funnies!" Stiles looked to Allison for backup. She was looking pointedly away.

"Nineteen minutes Stiles." Lydia said tapping her foot impatiently while she inspected her perfectly manicured and polished nails.

Stiles leapt up and hauled ass into the bathroom to take a shower. One did not make Lydia Martin late for shopping. Period.

XOXO

After getting to the mall the first thing they walked by was the bright flashing multicolored LED lights of the Arcade. Stiles looked hopefully towards it and opened his mouth-

"Don't even think about it Stiles."

-only to shut it tight. Bye-bye beautiful arcade. Never before had Stile's hopes been completely dashed before he'd even had a chance to verbally hope them.

The trio then passed a few more shops before sharply turning into some kind of brightly colored salon. Both girls with him waved to someone inside. Stiles followed their gazes to see Erica grinning like the Cheshire Cat. Except Stiles didn't recall the Cheshire Cat having scissors gleaming ominously in its hands like Erica did. Stiles gulped.

He was strong-armed into a chair and looked up at Erica. "I guess I'm getting a haircut then?"

"Bingo!" Erica exclaimed gleefully and spun Stiles around in his chair.

"Well, I guess my hair was getting a bit long. I usually get it buzzed with #3 clipper." Stiles said trying to be helpful.

"I find it funny you think you have any say in what we're going to do with your hair." Erica tsk'ed at him with a fond smile. She then proceeded to snip and razor different areas of his hair until she seemed satisfied before squeezing some kind of waxy product into her hand to spike his bangs up and add a bit of texture to the rest of his hair. He had to silently admit that it looked pretty good on him.

He was then steered down a hallway into a small room with a plush looking reclining chair in the middle. He found himself seated in the chair and told to close his eyes and relax.

He should've realized it was a trap. The stylish haircut clouded his judgment and place him into a false sense of security. His screams could be heard as far as the arcade.

XOXO

"Why would anyone ever go through that! That shit hurts like a bitch!" Stiles moaned, eyes glistening brightly from the tears.

"Stop your whining and man up; you only got your eyebrows waxed a bit. They look a lot more polished now anyways." Lydia reprimanded before turning into their next stop: some random evidently Asian-owned nail salon. Lydia said something to a worker that she seemed to know well. In Mandarin. Lydia was apparently fluent in fucking Mandarin. And apparently whatever she was saying was fucking hilarious and pertaining to Stiles judging by the way the worker would look over at him after Lydia said something and begin laughing.

After a few minutes all three of them sat in nice chairs next to each other before the pampering began. Stiles was a big enough man to admit that the mani-pedi felt fucking amazing and his nails never looked so shiny and clean. He made sure he got clear polish. Lydia seemed minutely disappointed, but allowed it.

They continued onwards chatting amicably about school and sharing stories concerning various member of Derek's lunch table posse. Stiles learned that Jackson had a huge weak spot for gummy bears and somehow found himself hating Jackson a little less. He also filed the information away for future brown-nosing potential if the need ever arose.

He also learned that Allison seemed to be almost as head-over-heels for Scott as he seemed to be with her. Every time he brought up a story about Scott she would blush prettily as she listened with rapt attention. It was almost sickening how perfect they seemed for each other but he couldn't help feeling happy for his best bro-even if he did have major payback coming to him for blabbing about Stiles privately shared feelings.

The third stop was some trendy clothing store with ridiculously good looking employees. A tall guy with blonde tipped light brown hair spiked stylishly came over to him and smiled brilliantly. He was wearing some kind of thin sleeveless hoodie showing off his muscles arms and jeans that were splattered with paint that clung in all the right places.

"Hey there. I'm Brett, what can I help you out with today?" He asked pleasantly in a surprisingly deep voice while giving Stiles and obvious look-over. He guessed the worker was assessing his shitty fashion choices. Lydia cleared her throat delicately and Brett looked over at her. "Oh! Lydia, I didn't see you there. Is this cutie here with you?"

"Actually, we're here to find him a few new outfits he can wear in public without embarrassing me. And so he can impress guys, apparently." She quirked an eyebrow at Stiles mischievously and he found it peculiar that she mentioned that extra piece of information about 'impressing guys' in such an innocently conversational way. Lydia was never innocent and always had motives behind every piece of information she shared.

"Oh really now? I think I can help you with that. You have some things in mind already, I'm sure?" Brett asked before he an Lydia went off together grabbing various articles of clothing. After about fifteen minutes Stiles found himself in a dressing room with a large full-body mirror and a small mountain of clothes next to him.

He tried on at least twenty pairs of jeans, all tight enough to virtually ensure infertility, a few pairs of shorts and shirts of every kind (except plaid). Each time he came out of the dressing room to be assessed by the two girls and Brett before trudging back in for the next combination of clothes. After what felt like days of playing dress-up they picked out many of their favorite choices to be bought.

He sighed in relief as the girl went off to try on clothes for themselves in the store. He finally had a few minutes without being pushed around.

"Lydia can be quite a handful, can't she?" Brett's asked causing Stiles to jump a bit in surprise before relaxing.

"Uh, you think?" Stiles replied sardonically and Brett chuckled before crowding into Stiles' space a bit. Stiles looked up into practically translucent green eyes and felt his cheeks heat up. The guy could be a freaking model, for sure.

"She did pick out some clothes that really are quite flattering on you though. They all really bring out your deep eyes and show off that body of your nicely." Brett continued causing the red in Stiles cheeks to deepen in color.

"Th-this body? This awkward gangly thing? You have to be kidding." Stiles said unconvinced looking pointedly away from the other guy's ensnaring gaze.

"Oh come on, don't play coy. We know you have some muscle under there. Look." He replied while lifting Stiles' shirt a bit and running a hand over the flat lithe muscles of Stiles' stomach. "I see plenty of muscle here." Brett grinned wolfishly at him before letting the shirt fall back into place.

"Oh, um, thanks then." Stiles wondered if this all was part of Lydia's master scheme, whatever it might be.

"Anytime. Here," Brett said pulling out a piece of paper and scrawling something across it before slipping it in Stiles' back pocket. "My number. Give me a call if you wanna go out sometime." Brett winked at him then left the dressing room waiting area to go back to work. Stiles was left there gaping like some kind of mentally deficient fish.

"What just happened?" Stiles said to an empty room. Great, he was so flustered he was talking to walls. Way to be normal, Stiles.

XOXO


End file.
